The search continued as the sun dawned bright on an unexpected cloudless day. I woke with a mission: to head toward some out-of-the-way parts of the city to locate cherry blossoms.

I started by trying to navigate to Hie Jinga located in Akasaka. I rode the Ginza line to Tameike-Sanno Station and hopped off. If you haven’t visited Tokyo, it’s easy to wander in the wrong direction when leaving a subway and that’s what I did on this day. I walked out of the station and THOUGHT I was headed for the temple. My iPhone Google map sent me in a direction and I walked, dutifully, toward the shrine…or so I thought. The map led me astray, and I soon realized that I was going in the wrong direction. Once I figured this out, I looked around. I was in the middle of some large buildings and structures, and I couldn’t quite place my location.

Then, I saw a Japanese sign pointing to the temple. It was small and once I recognized the characters, I started walking in that direction; soon enough, I turned a corner and was the grounds for the temple. The lesson was THIS: use your eyes and look around to find out where you’re going. From that point onward on this trip, I looked at a map on my phone and avoided using the guidance from the system! The Hie Shrine sits on a hill and a series of steps leads to the main complex. On this day, a food ceremony was happening and I stayed to watch as the priests performed the ritual.

From there I located the Inari – the red torii gates that are reminiscent of Fushimi Inari. The gates are around the back of the shrine and a small group gathered to take pictures of themselves in various poses on the steps. These tourists, like me, were intrigued. Unfortunately, their interest led them to attempt climbing on the posts and trying to balance between the spans. More than once one of the group fell to the ground with the rest laughing. They changed their approach and just started photographing each other in suggestive poses. A small group formed trying to make their way down the stairs and through the torii. The group angrily refused to budge and blocked the way. At some point, another person simply pushed their way past the photographers.

The cherry trees were sealed shut and so I decided to find another location. The wonderful Hamarikyo Park was my new destination filled with the ancient Yoshino cherry trees. The game was afoot (literally, because I was walking).

Walking all the way to this Park was a haul. The miles I trekked took me past the Imperial Gardens and through Asakasa all the way to the Shiodome area.

Crossing the bridge over the Sumida and into the park, the grounds were filled with ponds whose levels changed with the tides. Originally a home to shoguns and later Meiji leaders, the buildings were destroyed and never rebuilt. In their place were trees of various types and the cherry trees, while few in number, were present near the entrance.

As I walked to my right after the entrance, I saw a group of Yoshino cherry trees and they were old, twisted symbols of ancient Japan. As I walked around the trees, I noticed a single blossom. I grabbed the shot.

It may seem like a small thing, and this blossom changed my perspective in some way. Going into the park I was anxious, worried even, about my time in Japan. I had been led astray by the Google Map, felt like I was lost on the subway more than once, and just had a sense of unease as I walked through the city.

All of that sense and sensation dropped away when I saw this one bloom on the tree. Not far from this spot, groups of small tables were scattered in the trees and I found a place to sit and just be in the moment. My meditation began effortlessly and the crazy mind I had wrestled with for hours slowly dropped away. I watched, sat, and stopped. I’m not sure how much time passed as I sat there. I noticed the wind and chill sitting in the shade of a pine tree and a shiver passed through me more than once.

As the day passed, I walked through the rest of the gardens and marveled at the simplicity and attention to every detail. The grounds are remarkable.

I walked out of the park as the sun descended and the light cast interesting shadows on the ground. The walk back to the train station was quiet and I boarded the Ginza line to Asakusa. My day was amazing and in small ways, transformational.

May you be happy, May you be well.